


Cain vs. the Machines

by AndreaLyn



Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1803187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's a man to do when his significant other chooses to play with machines more than he does him? Well, in Cain's case, he sends DG to do all the legwork for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cain vs. the Machines

 

_He knows all about the movements of the planets_  
But he don't know how to move me  
He knows about the sonic spectrum damnit  
But he don't know if it's groovy

  
  
*   
  
What no one had expected when Glitch came back to the lab (when the eclipse was recently in the memory of those in the O.Z.) was for him to dive back into his work without the reattachment to the Ambrose side of his brain. Apparently, all it took was the presence of great and terrible machinery for him to come up with farfetched ideas and new inventions. The lack of the rest of his brain prevented him from actually doing much about it, but that didn’t mean Glitch wasn’t constantly snapping his fingers and announcing his idea to the room at large.   
  
“Oh! I know. A combustible engine to run a flying machine!”   
  
“You know, what we could really use around here is a doohickey that moves the food down the table…”   
  
“Maybe we could invent something that changes the colour of people’s hair!”   
  
That last one had proved problematic when, in the midst of DG’s sleep, he nearly dyed her hair blonde. The yelp she let out could be heard all over Central City, but Glitch just shrugged and informed DG that if she were going to fall asleep in a public place like the kitchen, he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions. Glitch had at least looked admonished by the reprimand she had given him, but had just skulked off to the lab muttering about chemical properties and shades.    
  
That had been when DG called an emergency convening of minds that was made up of Azkadellia, Jeb, Raw, Cain, and Ahamo – the Queen insisted she not take part, as she would no doubt be biased in the matter of siding with her dearest Advisor.   
  
“If he tests out one more machine on me…” DG muttered, shaking her head while wringing out her hair. Today had been a fresh water-hold within the kitchens, but it had accidentally malfunctioned and spilled all over her. She’d only forced her smile through the thick droplets of  _cold_  water because it had delighted Glitch and made him laugh riotously at the sight of a soaked princess.    
  
Everyone voiced their opinions in turn except for Cain, who had remained quiet and silent in the corner. There had been a unanimous agreement that something needed to be done about Glitch, possibly along the lines of giving him another hobby. Now, everyone was staring at Cain with expectant looks.    
  
“Wrong man to turn to,” Cain warned, voice clipped.   
  
“I thought that you and Glitch were…” Azkadellia began warily.   
  
“ _Were_ ,” Cain stressed the word.   
  
One week after the eclipse, they had been seen together in public without seeming to mind – to the point that everyone in their assembled group could be counted on to find them in a compromising solution at some point in time. But lately, nothing of the sort was happening, which made everyone think (and hope) that Cain and Glitch had discovered the meaning of discretion. Or it could have just been that they were lucky enough to not stumble on the two of them.   
  
“Were?” Raw echoed.   
  
“Two months ago,” Cain informed them – which meant that whatever it was that happened had occurred a full annual after the Eclipse. “He wouldn’t give me the time of day, skipped out on my birthday, and turned all our time together into him suggesting new devices for the Tin Men and not listening until I took his damn sketches and considered them. So we broke it off.”   
  
“Cain, you never said,” DG said quietly.   
  
Cain just shrugged, arms still crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “Most men don’t want to admit they got dumped over a couple of machines.” Especially not when he and Glitch had been at a very specific and  _big_  point in their relationship. Not that he’d gotten to tell Glitch about it before he was avoided in favour of the lab.    
  
“I’ll talk to him,” DG announced. “I mean, this is silly. We’re all avoiding him like that’ll do us any good,” she said, sounding a bit bewildered. “I mean, are we really so afraid that he’ll turn us into his next big wacky science project?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“It’s why I keep running out to help the Resistance.”   
  
“Raw say yes.”   
  
“My hair is still singed.”   
  
“Mine too, Princess.”    
  
“All right! All right,” DG sighed, giving Azkadellia and Cain both sympathetic looks for their poor hair. “At least he didn’t try to make you a bottle blonde,” she muttered under her breath. “I will talk to him and I will be very caring and patient and I won’t even make him talk if he doesn’t want to.”   
  
*   
  
“Glitch!”   
  
“I said no!” he whined, turning his attention back to the project at hand, which looked like a miniature model of the Tower with many adjustments made to it. “I don’t  _want_  to talk about why I’m doing this. Can’t it  _possibly_  just be that I’m enjoying myself?”   
  
“You and Cain broke up without telling anyone,” DG insisted.   
  
“So!”   
  
“So, the last time you two fought, you were at my door and asking about Otherside traditions involving ice cream and cake that people are supposed to indulge in after a fight with your significant other,” she reminded him. “Remember? I gained five pounds that week.” Glitch seemed to pale at that, which was an accomplishment considering how pale he always looked. “So what’s up? Why are you acting all…weird?”   
  
“It’s not weird, it’s productive,” Glitch mumbled, turning back to the small design. “Have I shown you this yet? I think we can convert the tower into a silo-like storage unit for the crops and build miniature indoor climates to grow year-round.”   
  
DG paused in her interrogation to smile proudly at him. “I told you that you were the smartest man in the O.Z.,” she said, beaming away.    
  
“And! I am smart enough to evade all questions, such as the ‘why are you spending all your time here’. Maybe, m-maybe I just  _want to_ ,” he said with a snap and a huff. “And maybe it has to do with the fact that Cain hasn’t told you everything.”   
  
“He hasn’t?”   
  
“You ask him about the dresser drawer, doll, cuz I’d start there and then come back when things look a lot more clear,” Glitch muttered and went back to tinkering with equations, glitching every now and again and forcing himself to start over.   
  
DG swore under her breath, lifting a frustrated hand to the sky.   
  
_Cain_ .   
  
*   
  
“The what?” Cain asked, glancing up from his paperwork and looking as confused as Azkadellia had looked when DG brought up the notion of movies and entertainment and dance clubs.    
  
“He said to ask you about the ‘dresser drawer’,” DG quoted, making invettas with her fingers. “Whatever that means. But  _apparently_ , whatever has to do with the dresser drawer means it’s your fault.”   
  
Cain was barely paying attention, just signing off on multiple papers. “We had at least fifteen drawers in the room when we were together. He needs to be more specific.”   
  
*   
  
“You need to be more specific,” she informed Glitch while they were eating lunch in the lab and Glitch was making use of some little disks to create a projection that went on all the walls of the room – including the ceiling.    
  
“Top drawer,” Glitch mumbled, tweaking the machine. “Under his socks and the copy of the romance novel he pretends he doesn’t own.”   
  
*   
  
“Top drawer under your dirty book and socks,” she countered in a monotone after making the journey back to the Tin Man headquarters. “I swear, you two need to pick up a phone and have this out yourselves. This is seriously way out of my jurisdiction considering I’m supposed to be undergoing Princess Lessons or whatever Mom is calling them lately and Az is already pissed I’m abandoning her and…Cain?”   
  
In the middle of her speech, she’d noticed Cain had stopped working on his papers and had begun to stare right up at her. “Yeah, DG?”   
  
“What’s wrong?”   
  
“My top drawer. With the socks and the book,” he echoed, pushing himself from his chair – which made a loud and ugly scraping sound. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of DG’s head as he hurried out of the office, leaving her to stand there and throw up both her hands in frustration.   
  
“Come on!” she protested to the heavens above. “I deserve an explanation, at least!”   
  
But she still hurried back, chasing after Cain like they were trampling all over the O.Z. again.   
  
*   
  
“You found it and you didn’t  _tell_  me,” Cain accused, locking the lab door behind him in the most primitive way he could think of – which involved sliding a rickety old wooden chair up against the handle – and then he whirled on Glitch and glared. It was the first time they had spoken in two months, since the ‘mutual’ break-up (because Cain had decided he wasn’t about to be dumped and had said sure, yeah, they were over) and Glitch seemed to freeze like an animal in headlamps. “First, why were you rooting through my things?”   
  
“I was looking for my things,” Glitch stammered his reply, still gaping. “And I forget which drawers were yours and which were mine.”   
  
“Glitch,” Cain growled quietly. “We were together for an annual and you dumped me for your machines!”   
  
“They don’t cheat on me!”    
  
“I wasn’t cheating on you, for the sake of the gods.”   
  
“Then why did you have that in your drawer!” Glitch uttered desperately, as if The Objects in question would turn up on the table in front of them, beside the small version of…   
  
“Is that me?” Cain interrupted, gaping at the clay-doll that was standing about eight inches tall and had a hat, tight pants, and was wielding a gun.   
  
“Not all my time in here can be spent inventing great things,” Glitch admitted, rubbing his hand over his face again and again. “Cain, really. I know what it’s like to court a woman because I did used to do it and I’ll have you know that occasionally, the memories do trickle on back so when I see a rose and dinner tickets and a narrow, slender jewellery box the size of a necklace, a man gets the picture what’s going on. And you hid it in the drawer! Right by your romance novel of shame!”   
  
Cain just stood there staring patiently at Glitch and it looked like he was absolutely fuming.    
  
“What?” Glitch asked nervously.   
  
“We broke up because you thought I was cheating on you because you found a couple of things in my sock-drawer.”   
  
“Oh,  _please_ , Tin Man, that was your shame-drawer and we both know it!”   
  
“You really are an idiot,” Cain leveled that accusation with deadly and icy certainty, shaking his head. “For all your brilliant inventions, there’s no common sense in that brain of yours?”    
  
“Who was she? Or should I ask who she is? Someone on the force?” Glitch demanded, sounding wildly hurt. “Someone you helped? An actress? Cain, who? Why did you have to look anywhere but at me?”   
  
“I wasn’t looking somewhere else, sweetheart,” Cain nearly roared out the words and Glitch glanced up and was shocked to find that Cain was towering over him, barely two inches of space between them now. “I was trying to  _propose_  to you.”   
  
“…The name’s Glitch! On account of sometimes my synapses don’t fire right!”   
  
“Oh gods.”   
  
*   
  
DG was standing outside Cain’s room after he stormed back up there, not bothering to wait around and explain the glitching away. He gave her a warning look and shook his head to inform her that he wasn’t ready to talk yet. She gave an understanding nod and squeezed his shoulder lightly before she left him alone and everyone within the walls of the Central City palace ignored the sound of furniture being broken.   
  
*   
  
It took two hours and fifteen minutes for Glitch to recall what happened before he had glitched and his synapses had carried away that critical information like little ants taking their dinner home. He still didn’t remember what had forced the massive glitch, just that Cain had been talking to him and had said  _something_ .    
  
_P…_   
  
Penny? Maybe it was a porpoise, but why would Cain have anything to do with those kinds of things. Principal? Primary! Maybe it was the primary reason that he wanted to leave Glitch and move on. No, that couldn’t be it. Prom? No, that was the thing that DG talked about and the fluffy dresses and the pig’s blood and the ‘miserable time with that stupid boy who tried to grope me until I decked him cold’. Promise? No, but for some reason, that seemed to hit somewhere  _closer_  to the mark.   
  
“Damn it,” Glitch muttered angrily. He’d never been as angry with his silly half-hemisphere as he was at that very moment. Cain couldn’t have meant procedure, nor prose and Cain hated probability, so it wasn’t that. Oh cripes, what a problem this was. He prodded at his mind, trying to produce something that would probably solve the issue and so he could process it.    
  
_Pro…what?_   
  
Glitch was profusely and profoundly beginning to wonder why no one was around to explain this to him. Considering how proficient he usually was in solving problems, this was one he could have used professional help on.   
  
With a long sigh, Glitch let his chin collapse into his waiting palm.   
  
He supposed he could always go and  _talk_  to Cain.    
  
He trudged up the various stairs and eventually found his way to the next floor, where one of the doors was open just a crack and in the room that Cain and Glitch used to share, there was Cain. He was opening that sock drawer and digging out the long box, the velvet one that Glitch had never bothered to open because an assumption didn’t need anything more than what was right under his nose. In the light of the room, Glitch was easily able to see Cain open the box with a gentle pry and he took out a long silver chain and held it to the light. Attached to it was a simple ring with no embellishments, engravings, or anything of the like.   
  
And it hit Glitch like lightning struck a lone tree in a field.   
  
_Propose_ .    
  
Glitch nearly barrelled into the room, shoving the door open and standing there awkwardly, gaping at Cain. There were still a few assorted pieces of clothing and possessions in the room that neither of them had claimed and now they had fallen victim to the various cobwebs that were amassing under nooks and crannies.   
  
Cain didn’t say a word. He just tucked back the chain in the box and slid it back into the drawer, giving Glitch an expectant and cold look. “You need something?”   
  
“I think I need forgiveness,” Glitch realized, having another epiphany and  _ow_ , but those hurt when you started getting them in bulk. “I really thought you were cheating, I mean, those were things you’d give a woman! And you were acting so weird! And I’m still talking when I should be asking forgiveness again.” He looked up at Cain, searching for anything in his eyes, but all he got was that tired and reluctant look that the Tin Man always had when he was through with a topic. Glitch wasn’t about to let it go so easily, so he pounced forward and grabbed hold of Cain’s wrist. “C’mon, Tin Man,” he begged. “I thought we all learned that it’s good to give a man a second chance! Especially a headcase of a man! I’m not saying I want the proposal, but…we could start dating again and see where the road takes us?” He was breathing a bit faster as the panic set in and Cain still didn’t say anything. “Seriously,” Glitch added flatly, worriedly. “Okay, any time now would be good to answer.”   
  
“You  _promise_  I get equal visiting time?” Cain said slowly. “If you give the machines an hour, I get an hour?”   
  
“You can have an hour and  _one minute_  to their hour!” Glitch swore enthusiastically.    
  
Slowly (just like the sun coming out from behind the clouds on a stormy day), Cain smiled and Glitch exhaled a sigh of relief. Glitch wasn’t sure which of them started it, but they wound up each laughing, which led to them sprawled atop the covers of the bed with limbs entangled and lips pressed firm and hot again each other’s, the entire world drifting away while revisiting the familiar places they’d each tried not to forget.   
  
“Okay, you already have a room,” came the patient words from the door. It was Jeb standing there and trying to avert his gaze. “But if you’re back in this stage, can you please remember to close the doors?”   
  
“And the windows!” DG insisted from over Jeb’s shoulders.    
  
And while Cain didn’t dare propose to Glitch again, they did go back to the normal routine of things. And they did, in fact, remember to close all doors and windows to safeguard the innocent ears of their friends and family.


End file.
